Staking His Claim (Men in Charge #2) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Men in Charge Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
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My eyes flutter closed. The drive from Alabama to Orange Blossom, Florida took a toll on my body, as well as the emotions, and I slowly drift to sleep, feeling a contentment I haven’t felt in too many years to count. Nelle was right after all—coming home is exactly what I needed. If only I can convince her to move here, too.

4

LEDGER

Tulsa never came back out, not in the twenty minutes I waited while going through emails on my phone, responding to the text messages that have piled up. The calls are the one thing I won’t be returning. Getting wrangled into an hour-long conversation with a potential client or my secretary asking questions non-stop is not what I need right now. I almost assumed she’d come flying out the door. I should have known better; the girl has more grit than anyone I know. I’ve seen that for myself on the two days a month I would allow myself to travel to Alabama, showing me that she was thriving, exactly what Montgomery wanted even if I had to be the bad guy. It was hard as hell watching her live a life without me. Seeing her tip her head up toward the sun, closing her eyes, and smiling, it about gutted me. The same thing Tulsa did when she would step outside on the back deck before going in the pool.

“Fuck it.” I’ve waited long enough. If she’s in that house alone, falling apart, she’s going to do it on me, even if I’m the reason she’s breaking down. I fling open the screen door. Since she left the front door wide open, it’s enough of an invite to come inside. My eyes were watching the long-haired beauty the entire time, noticing that she went up the stairs. That’s the way I head. I don’t notice anything different in the house. No upgrades were necessary, and she would have had my head if I’d changed one single fucking thing without okaying it in the process. The only things I’ve done have been maintenance—a leaky faucet, the pool pump that’s in desperate need to be replaced but I’ve been Band-Aiding back together for the time being, and replacing the wood steps on the side of the house. This year, I was going to talk to Flay about painting the outside. A few spots are being beaten to death by the hot Florida sun. Since Tulsa is home now, it’ll move up on the maintenance schedule.

I stop at the door to her bedroom. It’s closed, but she could still be in there. I don’t bother knocking. Tulsa Rose’s room is the exact same way she’s had it since she and Mrs. Williams decorated it before she passed away. The walls are still a dusty rose. The metal headboard with white bedding, an addition she’s made through the years, and light wood dresser and nightstand complete the bulk of the furniture. I step inside. Not seeing her anywhere in the room, I back out of it and close the door behind me. The guest room she’d never be in; there’s no reason. I bypass the bathroom and hit pay dirt. Mont’s bedroom door is flung open.

“Son of a bitch,” I murmur quietly when I see the form of a body beneath Mont’s favorite blanket. I swear to Christ if she’s reverting to when Montgomery passed away, I’m going to take my hand to her ass. Fuck, that has me thinking about other things, things I damn well shouldn’t be thinking, not at a time like this. Light on my feet, which is damn near impossible in steel-toed boots, I edge closer to the bed. I move my hand toward the mattress, grateful I had enough time to hurry home, wash up a little bit before making the trek by foot from my property to hers.

“Butterfly, it’s time to come out of your cocoon.” I carefully lift the blanket, holding my breath, preparing for the worst, hoping for the best. I slowly remove the blanket from the top until her face is showing, eyes squeezed shut, lashes fluttering along her cheeks. The streaks of mascara down her face tell me all I need to know. Tulsa Rose came in here, let her emotions take over, and fell asleep. A piece of me is tempted to move the blanket further down her body, slide beside her, and help her settle into a more peaceful sleep. The other part of me knows if she were to wake up with me beside her, I’d be in a world of fucking hurt. It seems we’ve both made some mistakes in our past, and even though her words ripped my world apart, she still needs me, even if she can’t admit it to herself. “Sleep, butterfly,” I tell her softly as my lips graze her forehead, leaving the blanket off her face unlike how she had it. I’ve got no idea how she was able to sleep like that. I’d suffocate without some kind of moving air. Montgomery and she would do this when their world was shaking, sadly too fucking much for either of them, but especially for Tulsa Rose. I take one last look over my shoulder on my way out the door, my hand going to my pocket, digging out my phone to shoot a text to my crew and secretary that I’d be off for the remainder of the day, a rarity since I only ever took a few days off once a month, though I still made myself available should something materialize. That’s not going to happen today. As soon as I’m out of hearing distance, I take the steps just as fast as I did when my goal was to find Tulsa all the while texting who I need to before I throw my phone down on the table by the front door then head out front. We all live far enough off the beaten path that locking your car doors is unheard of, let alone your house. I’ll have to make sure Tulsa does at least lock the doors in the house. The windows are a lost cause. Spring in Florida is either hot or cold, never in the middle like it has been this year, with warm days and cooler nights.


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